


Sean's Got It Going On

by elistaire



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M, Sean tries to seduce anyone, mental orgasm, stupid pick-up lines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elistaire/pseuds/elistaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean's got an itch that needs scratching and he's trying to approach everyone and anyone.  They all turn him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sean's Got It Going On

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a kink fill: _Sean/any, Bad pick-up lines. Sean thinks he's being smooth, but he's just really, really bad. Any pairing is cool or maybe a 'Sean tries to pick up every member of the team.' Or even the team lols so hard at his bad pickup lines and one of them takes pity and tries to school him or at least let him know that his cheesy come ons aren't working._  
> [Link to the prompt and fill](http://1stclass-kink.dreamwidth.org/1269.html?thread=13045#cmt13045)
> 
> This was supposed to be humor, although at the very end maybe it could be a bit...creepy?

It was another boring night in the CIA compound and Sean was tired of walking in circles in the courtyard. Plus, there was an itch inside him that needed scratching. He decided that he might as well try his luck.

The first of the others that he came across was Angel. She was outside, staring at the moon, her wings unfurled. She was smokin’ hot, with dark tresses—Sean can think that no other word described her lovely hair—and smoky eyes, and a figure that he wanted to run his hands up and down.

When she turned and saw him coming, her eyes narrowed.

“Hey, baby,” he said.

“Not if you were the last man alive on earth,” she spit, and her wings beat faster, then she was gone into the night. She carved a graceful line against the dim sky, and Sean wished he could fly and catch up to her.

~~~

Next, Sean went to look for Raven. She was less sultry and more like the fizz in a sweet, carbonated soda, but Sean liked that just as well.

He found her inside, looking a little sulky and bored. He could work with bored.

“Hey, little lady,” he said in his best John Wayne impression.

Her eyes narrowed in a very familiar fashion. “Go lasso someone else, cowboy.” Then she made a very unladylike gesture and transformed into an exact copy of Sean himself, except with a big red nose like a clown.

Sean made a hasty retreat.

~~~

He’d struck out with the ladies. Sean shrugged it off. That didn’t mean his opportunities were over. He still had an itch that needed scratching, and there were others that could do the job just as well. He just had to broaden his horizons a bit for the evening.

He squared his shoulders and went to find Alex.

“Come in,” Alex said when Sean knocked on the door to his room.

“Hey, buddy,” he said as he opened the door. Alex was lounging on his bed, reading a magazine, and looking like he was composed of all long, long lines.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, will ya? Not interested.”

“What?” Sean complained. “It’s not like that!”

“It’s totally like that,” said Darwin from behind him. He’d just entered the room through the door Sean had left open, and he was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning. He narrowed his eyes in a way that was becoming far too common. “You’d better move along now.”

 

Sean held up both hands in surrender and beat it out of there.

~~~

That left Hank. Down in the lab.

Sean thought about that for a moment, but in the end, he decided that Hank was a good looking guy, behind the glasses. So, he went down there.

Hank was busy scribbling notes and looking through a microscope, then back to scribbling notes.

“Hey, there, dude,” Sean said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hank’s head came up from the microscope to examine Sean for the barest of a millisecond, then he checked his watch and put his head back to the microscope oculars. “It’s really late,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” He realized his mistake a moment later. “Asleep, I mean. Shouldn’t you be _asleep_?”

“Got other things on my mind,” Sean replied smoothly, slinging one arm around Hank’s shoulders.

Hank sighed and leaned back. He picked Sean’s arm off him as if he were removing dog poop. He turned to narrow his eyes at Sean, and the effect was magnified through the glasses, hitting Sean like a thin, hard line. “No,” Hank said. “I’ve got work to do.”

“So that’s a maybe later?” Sean asked, hopefully.

The glare that focused out of Hank’s glasses made Sean swiftly turn and escape.

~~~

Sean passed the kitchenette area. Erik was digging around in the freezer for something—maybe ice? He pulled back his head and turned to look at Sean. His eyes were already narrowed, his lips a hard line, and he looked like he’d just as soon gut Sean as they stood there rather than even engage in pleasantries.

Sean kept scurrying past.

~~~

As he walked along the upper corridor, Sean eyeballed the CIA guard that strolled through the courtyard. Nah, he decided. Total longshot.

He gave a neck roll. He had one chance left. He knocked on Charles’ door.

“Come in!” came the response and Sean checked the grin that came to his face.

“Hey, Professor,” Sean said as he came through the door. Charles was reclining on his bed reading a really thick book. He looked languid and relaxed, and Sean’s itch suddenly doubled in itchiness.

Charles’ eyes narrowed at him, but it was a considering look, not one that promised dire consequences if Sean didn’t vanish in three seconds. “You’ve been bothering the others a bit,” he said.

“Bothering?”

Charles closed his book and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He patted the spot next to him. Expectantly, Sean sat down next to him and leaned in close. Charles leaned back, surprise on his face. “Good grief, Sean,” he said. “What am I to do with you?”

There was a noise at the door and Erik came through, carrying a bucket of ice and an expression that would have withered fruit on the vine. A low growl actually started in Erik’s chest and Sean realized that _he shouldn’t be anywhere near_ Charles. Ever.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Sean said. He needed to get out before Erik killed him.

“Oh, for the love of—“ Charles said and stood up, too. He pressed his fingers to his temple and suddenly everything in Sean’s whole world went psychedelic. He flopped backwards onto the other bed, his muscles having lost all ability to contract, and he was enveloped into a warm haze. Sean stared up at the ceiling as the warmness kept going out to his fingers and toes and then back again to his core in pleasant, soft waves. The bed felt really solid against him. His head felt really nice, like it was stuffed full of white cotton, soft and downy. Sean liked cotton.

“What did you do?” a voice floated above him. Sean liked voices.

“I…ah…well. He needed…um…some release. We should continue our evening in your room, I think that’d be best.”

No more itch, Sean thought, and indeed, he felt like he’d never itched, never would itch again, couldn’t even remember what itching was. Everything was _perfect_. Perfect. Peeeerrrfect. He liked that word. He thought it again: perfect. He liked the letter P.


End file.
